SAVEGUARD ⟼ leon s. kennedy

xiii. concealed thoughts

𝕔𝕝𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕖

Our jokes and smiles quickly diminish as we scan the room that supposedly will lead us into the ship's bilge.

It looks more like a research room than an engine room. One wall is just a huge glass window, with slight cracks all throughout.

Leon shines his light all around, clicking it every few seconds as a signal to anyone who might still be down here.

It smells like actual death, of the smell of rot and stagnant water, festering with whatever died in here.

Leon covers his nose with the top of his shirt, his face scrunched up. "Fuck, this is disgusting."

I bury my face in the crook of my arm, trying not to upset my stomach. "It is."

He points to a journal on a metal table. We walk up to it, in tight formation, our arms rubbing into each other as we keep our eyes on the space around us, in case the dark has more surprises for us.

I shine the light on the pages, and he starts to read out loud:

"'I was forced on this mission. I had no desire to come here for a job that may very much get me killed. Anyway, stage one is complete. This ship was used as the base of operations for the terrorist attack on Terragrigia one year ago.'"

"Terragrigia... The name's familiar," I say, thinking out loud.

Leon pauses to look at me, and then goes back to reading. "'My head feels like it's going to split open. I lost an eye already. It's hard to see. I feel like crap. Arms starting to feel weird too.'" He grabs the paper to turn it, and I realise the bottom half of the page is covered in dried blood. "'My right arm split into two. Blood all over, I can see my bones.'"

"Holy shit... How did the person manage to write this?" I whisper.

"Talk about dedication," Leon says, shrugging. "Anyway, it says, 'I got the key for the freight lift. Now I can access the bilge.'" He sighs. "Great. More hoops to jump through." He flips the page again, and says, "It just ends with: 'need doctor bad'."

"What do you think happened to this person?"

Leon sets the journal down and stares at me in the eye. "We both know what happened to whoever wrote this."

I exhale, sadness and fright taking up space in my lungs. My arm still stings with pain. What the hell is going to happen to us?

Leon puts an arm on my shoulder, soft and gentle. "You doing good?"

Before I can answer, we hear something slam against the glass wall. We both turn in lightning speed, focusing our light on the glass.

At first, the shape slamming against the window looks to be that of a woman. Blonde hair, hourglass figure. But then, as the shaky light allows me to focus my eyes better, I take a step back, behind Leon.